The Art of Improvisation
by Devin Trinidad
Summary: After the events of hypovolemic shock, NT-4201 deals with feelings of inadequacy by taking advice from her mentor. Meanwhile, U-4989 tags along and teaches the young red blood cell how to "go with the flow". It goes exactly as one would expect.


NT-4201 was not impulsive, reckless, or stubborn.

In fact, she was quite the opposite of all those things.

She was the very definition of clear headedness, efficiency, and pragmatism. However, the young erythrocyte knew that she could be better. No, she would be better. After that frightening incident when the body was undergoing hypovolemic shock, NT-4201 realized that she wasn't at all a perfect red blood cell.

Yes, she memorized all the routes in the body—from the veins to the capillaries, she could easily navigate her way.

Yes, she understood that her life's mission was to deliver and extract the various gases that accumulated in the body's tissues.

Yes, she knew that red blood cells were one of the most important cells in the body—possibly even the most important considering their vast numbers within the blood.

However, upon meeting her mentor, that all changed.

At first, AE-3803 looked like she was an idiot who looked like she only completed her job just by the skin of her teeth. Honestly, how was her mentor supposed to survive her life's mission when she got lost every five minutes? How AE-3803 wasn't sent to the spleen yet due to her inefficiencies, NT-4201 knew not how. For the most part, NT-4201 knew that when her adjustment period would end—and it would end soon if she had anything to say about it—she would pray to all the gods in the universe that she would never see her mentor again.

Goodness knows how embarrassing hanging around her mentor was. The redhead obviously didn't know what she was doing ninety percent of the time. (And NT-4201 was being generous).

And then hypovolemia set in.

Never before had the newly enucleated erythrocyte felt such fear. Even when she was but a mere erythroblast, she never felt afraid of the future, of what terrors could lie in the body on a daily basis. Fear was an emotion that would contribute little to solving problems. One should always be looking for ways to resolve situations, not to worsen them.

And yet…

NT-4201 felt helpless and lost when she felt the body's temperature lowering, the bloodstream slowing to dangerous levels.

It was only her first day on the job, but the most disastrous of events was occuring right in front of her eyes.

Classes back in the bone marrow did little to prepare her fellow erythroblasts for life threatening situations like this. No, those types of events were relegated to the immune systems since they were supposed to protect the other cells from utter destruction and keeping the health of the body as the top priority. NT-4201 and the other millions of young erythroblasts were only taught to run and continue delivering the oxygen until they were deemed no longer useful.

But…

Looking back on that incident, NT-4201 could feel a telltale blush of shame creep up the back of her neck and color the paleness of her cheeks.

The way she had acted—a way that was contrary to her core beliefs and attitudes—was completely unprofessional and unbecoming of a red blood cell.

Yet, her mentor was the complete opposite.

Gone was the courier who could barely tell left from right.

Gone was the airheaded persona that NT-4201 thought that she was.

No, AE-3803 became the very picture of determination and willingness to protect the body at all costs.

Where had that determination come from? How far deep did she have to dig within herself to find that courage, the confidence, and the faith to keep moving for the body? Were all fellow red blood cells like this? Was NT-4201 different?

Was she…

Was she defective?

After the transfused red blood cells had helped the body acquire homeostasis, NT-4201 resolved that she would work harder and better.

She will be just as good as her mentor.

She will be a model red blood cell.

* * *

"Hey, NT-4201, here's your schedule for the next week."

The raven haired erythrocyte nodded cooly as she took hold of her assignments. It seemed that her routes would take her from the lungs (where she was currently stationed) to the bone marrow in the iliac crest for the next three days, but the rest of her week consisted of her running deliveries to the cells in the pharynx.

Already, she was calculating what veins and arteries would be the fastest and most practical means of completing her job. It only took a few minutes, but she made an outline of her strategy. With that done, the erythrocyte went about her day.

And…

It went…

Well…?

She went directly to her routes, delivered the canisters of oxygen right away, and went on her way with carbon dioxide.

The thing was, she did everything perfectly.

Too perfectly.

For some odd reason, there was no heart, no inner need to complete her mission.

Her voice had perfect diction when she announced her presence to the normal cells, but it lacked any inflection that would have them happily engaging in conversation with her. Her movements were swift and steady, not stumbling or wandering. And not once did NT-4201 stray from her original route.

Like an unwavering constant, there was a chasm of loneliness and yearning for something more that echoed strangely within her.

She worked perfectly and managed to finish early—a feat that hardly any other erythrocytes of her generation could ever do.

What was she doing wrong?

Why did she feel so empty?

* * *

"I need to speak with you."

"Is something wrong?"

NT-4201, allowing a moment of vulnerability, looked away for a mere second before nodding her head slowly. She had spent all day trying to find her mentor and now that she was here…the dark haired erythrocyte knew that she couldn't just keep on living her life feeling so useless when she had the potential to be so much more than just a dutiful worker. Finding her mentor was merely the first step. Accepting that she needed the help and to ask for advice was the next one.

Steeling her nerves, she faced her mentor and focused.

"It's urgent and I would appreciate your discretion."

AE-3803 nodded, concern for her mentee overshadowing her need to complete her own busy schedule.

"Sure thing! Did something happen with your deliveries?"

NT-4201 resisted the urge to scowl. Already, she knew that her mentor was far more intuitive than she was given credit for. Already, 4201 felt inadequate compared to her elder. A bolt of anxiety curdled her cytosol, leading her nerves to fray and her breathing to hitch with the sudden influx of emotion. However, a second of calming breathing led her to thinking more rationally. She wasn't there to get annoyed; she was there to get some advice concerning her job.

The young erythrocyte took a deep breath and said, "I think...No, I need some advice…" It pained her to continue, but she added, "...and you're the only one who can help me."

For a moment, NT-4201 thought that her senior was about to burst into tears—quite like the time when she had first admitted that her mentor was actually somewhat competent at her job. Fortunately for the both of them, the red haired woman took her by the arm and brought her to a bench for a better conversation. For the moment, the older erythrocyte looked the part of a mentor—a competent one at that.

Maybe their conversation would be better than she thought that it would be.

"Put a smile on your face and be determined!"

Ah.

So that's how it's going to be.

* * *

NT-4201 scowled down at herself before wheeling her cart down a busy street within the arteries. Memories and flashbacks of the conversation that she had with her mentor were still fresh in her mind. The conversation itself wasn't all too...AE-3803-ish (if that even made sense), but NT-4201 still felt like she hadn't received the advice that she desired. Her mentor's sagacity wasn't lost on her, however. There was some merit in wanting to overlook the problems in life and pasting a smile in the face of all tribulations, but it wasn't NT-4201.

Or maybe it was...it was just that NT-4201 wasn't all too keen on heeding the redhead's advice.

But it wasn't for a lack of trying.

Under 3803's tutelage, 4201 underwent a series of deliveries that went as well as one would expect.

That it so to say...very badly.

The smile on her face felt heavy and taxing to hold for more than brief moment's in time. Whenever she greeted clients, she was either faced with fearful cells or an empty doorway declaring that she just drop the delivery on the doorstep and leave. Those who were brave enough to face her gave her so much grief in that they tried to have a civil conversation, but…they were so awkward and stilted that one of the few passing Dendritic Cells took a few photos for fun's sake rather than to garner a vast collection of cytokines.

Whatever those were.

After half a day's workload had been completed, the erythrocyte thought it best to head to a deserted area to do some soul searching. At this point, she was willing to reevaluate what she had been doing right (if there was anything going in that direction) or wrong (which was plenty). Yeah…she was probably getting a lot of things wrong.

"The thing is," she mumbled to herself as she made a turn down an empty alleyway, "I have no idea what that is."

Although the phrasing was decidedly arrogant, she was honestly clueless. She tried to be happy-go-lucky; she went out of her way to be engaging. She tried to model herself after her mentor.

But she felt nothing.

With 3803 at her side, she only felt an impostor—an actor only minicking her mentor. 4201 played by the elder's rules, but there was no sense of accomplishment or the sort of satisfaction that she often saw on her mentor's face.

Maybe she was defective.

Disturbed, NT-4201 found herself abruptly coming to a stop near an abandoned section of condominiums. That thought never occurred to her before, but it would make sense. A red blood cell not taking pride in their deliveries? A red blood cell who didn't feel the rush of happiness running from one point to the next? It was virtually unheard of to hear of any sort of cell that didn't enjoy what they had been programmed to do since their very first replication...unless you weren't a perfect cell.

The brunette found her breath hitching in her throat.

If that was the case then…

"Yoohoo! Pardon me, but could you step a little to the left with your cart? You're blocking my way!"

Initially startled, the red blood cell didn't think twice about the strange voice that had come out of nowhere and immediately heeded the command.

Once the red blood cell moved herself and the cart out of the way, she witnessed a white blood cell squeezing out of some sort of hall in a wall. Like other immune cells of his kind, he was equipped with an assortment of knives, the characteristic stark color of his uniform, and pitch black eyes.

"H-h-how?"

"Transmigration, Miss Red Blood Cell." With a knowing smile, the white blood cell grinned in her general direction before tipping his hat. For a moment, she just solemnly stared at him—for some odd reason, talking to or interacting with cells outside of her own designation felt surreal. "Any particular reason why you look so down in the dumps?"

She stiffened.

"Were you spying on me?"

"Kinda hard not to, Miss Red Blood Cell. You were just kinda standing there for soooooooo long and well, I gotta patrol this area." The white blood cell cheekily smiled before his smile gave way to a uncharacteristically solemn stare. (It just seemed wrong after he had nearly blinded her with his too bright smile). Was he…concerend? "So, what gives?"

The red blood cell was about to tell him off, a cutting remark already on her tongue, when she realized that A) it would do her no good and B) white blood cells weren't known for their sadistic and bloodthirsty tendencies for nothing. Even if she was terrible at her job, she could still at least hope to keep her distance from the immune system like any other proper red blood cell would do.

(She briefly thought of AE-3803's neutrophil friend, but decided not to linger on that).

Instead, she shrugged and moved to push her cart back on track.

"Whoa, there! You in a rush?"

Was it just her, or did he sound hurt underneath his bubbling amusement?

Perhaps it was a matter of polity or the stab of guilt that was puncturing her insides, but she decided to not ignore him. "As a matter of fact, I've been tasked to make deliveries around this area and I might be already late." She turned away from him and began walking (quite swiftly) away from the currently pouting white blood cell.

What she didn't account for was the white blood cell tagging along beside her.

* * *

At first glance, NT-4201 was frightened by the prospect of an immune cell personally escorting her to her deliveries. Well, escort was bit of a strong word. No, what he did, was hang back just a dozen micrometers away while she tried her utmost to keep a blank expression on her face as her customers shied away in what appeared to be a mix of confusion and thinly veiled fear. The stuttering and the muttered remarks from her recipients further dampened 4201's mood so much that she scarcely made it through three subsequent trips around the body before finally addressing her companion.

"You've been following me around for my last few trips. What are you doing?"

"Patrolling the body, of course!"

4201's eyes twitched at his oblivious enthusiasm. Dear gods above, did she actually find a person who was just as clueless as her mentor?

"Don't you have your own routes to patrol?"

"Yup!"

4201's eyes twitched again.

"Oh! I get it!" The white blood cell's cheeky grin turned into an epiphany as he slammed his fist into his palm. "You're wondering why I'm following you. Is that it?"

It took an ungoodly amount of self control to stop herself from screeching at the white blood cell to leave her alone so that the both of them could serve the body to their heart's content. In order to keep decorum, she gritted out, "How astute of you."

If the white blood cell could hear how much effort was put into restraining herself, he surely showed it by his wayward grins…and that merely served to stoke her ire even further.

"I'm not following you. Our routes just happened to coincide every step of the way!"

"Really."

"Yes, really."

Did he really think that with a face like that, that she would honestly believe him? The nerve!

"All right, I can see from your face that you're not buying it, so I'll just give it to you straight."

Finally.

(Just in case, though, she held her breath lest she look too relieved).

"I think it's my mission for today to make you smile!"

NT-4201 recanted her previous statement.

This stupid white blood cell was worse than her mentor.

* * *

The sad thing was, after her deliveries, she had pretty much finished up for that one workday and when she informed the immune cell of that, he offered to take her around the body.

And by that he meant—

"Get inside, it's super cool!"

"That. Is. A. Sewer." A scowl the likes of which she would usually never share in the light of day darkened her features. Undeterred, the white blood cell merely gestured even more fervently at the open grating.

"Come on, come on! It'll be great and you can transmigrate and meet new people—Oh! Have you met, U-2001? Great guy, excellent at transmigrating into marginating pools because he's old and needs more time to re—Where-where are you going?"

NT-4201 had enough of this embarrassment to the body.

"I don't care that you use it to transprogress or whatever."

"Transmigrate, Miss Red Blood Cell! Tis a revered art! Besides, how can we move from vessel to vessel fast enough if we don't use it? Aren't you guys all about efficiency and pragmatism? This should be quite literally up your ally."

"And didn't you study during your time in the bone marrow? Transmigratory vessels are meant specifically for the immune system. See the hat and jacket?" She pointed to her attire` items respectively. "I'm a red blood cell whose main job is to provide oxygen to all the cells in the body. Clearly, I'm not an immune cell."

And if she was, she wouldn't be nearly as annoying as this one.

To her utter exasperation, the white blood cell pouted.

"But you're off duty, right?"

"Which means that I should get back to red blood cell headquarters so that I can get some rest. So that I can be as efficient and hardworking tomorrow as I was today."

The white blood cell looked at her strangely; it was almost as if he were pitying her or something.

"Really? It didn't look like you were being efficient today when I observed you…"

Fire tingled in her hands while her face flushed with anger. That wasn't—! How dare—! Ooohhh, if she wasn't so conserved and so disciplined, she would have decked him with one of the canisters of carbon dioxide that she saw lying around.

"That is none of your—"

Suddenly, there was a small dinging coming from the white blood cell's cap. Right away, there was an immediate contrast to the immune cell's countenance. What was once an easygoing smile that annoyed the cytosol out of the red blood cell became a snarl that roared for vengeance. Immediately, the erythrocyte jumped back in fear before backing away with her little cart in tow. Unfortunately, that action alone caused the crazed neutrophil to take her in before he grabbed her, shoved her into a seated position on the cart's platform, and began rolling the cart down the vessel.

"What are you doing?" NT-4201 screamed. There were tons of red blood cells and platelets racing away from the runaway cart and from the bacteria—if their screams of horror had anything to tell her. "Get me off this thing!"

"What does it look like? I'm going after a pathogen!" Whooping in delight, the white blood cell pushed the cart even faster.

"You can't use a cart as a weapon!" NT-4201 screamed as the cart began careening down quickly emptying streets and into a bona fide battlefield. She turned to glance over her shoulder to see what the white blood cell was doing, but nearly lost her hat. Why was today of all days so damn frustrating? "It's simply unprofessional!"

"Why not? It's faster and funner!"

FUNNER WASN'T EVEN A WORD!

Just when the red blood cell was about to retort, probably with something loaded with curses, the neutrophil abruptly stopped.

That would have been the end, except that the momentum of the cart was at a speed that 4201 could barely comprehend—it was just that fast. When the white blood cell ceased the cart from moving, the sudden stop caused him to launch himself over the handles of the cart and into some sort of gelatinous mass that incomprehensibly growled and roared at the sudden attack.

"WHAT THE HELL?"

* * *

NT-4201 could only stare in deadpan horror as she watched drops of cytosol fall from the white blood cell's uniform and onto the ground. Normally, she would have used this opportunity to escape the mass hysteria (and to hopefully leave this dopey little immune cell to his own devices), but a part of her felt a little guilty if she just left this guy all by his lonesome. Especially since his coworkers came a little late to the party.

Nevertheless, when she saw that the white blood cell was all right, she made as if to leave, but thought the better of it at the last second.

(Why? Even she doesn't know).

"Are you all right? Here," she gave him a few tissues that she kept for emergencies in her pack. They were mainly for wiping her hands whenever her glucose melted and began to stain her hands. "You shouldn't be acting so recklessly…even if it's your job to act like a bloodthirsty idiot."

If the white blood cell had any issue with what she had said, he didn't show any indication of it. Instead, he lazily commented, "Ya know, Miss Red Blood Cell, you're kinda too high strung."

"Your point?"

"Aren't ya guys supposed to 'go with the flow' or somesuch?"

"That only applies to the job." She crossed her arms and pouted. "I can be as high strung as I see fit."

"Geeze, you remind me of 2001. The only difference is that he has an outlet. You don't."

"A high strung white blood cell? You don't say." She smirked a little at her companion. "Let me guess, he unleashes all of his frustrations whenever he starts hacking up bacteria."

"Yup!"

Not even paying attention to her growing look of disgust, the neutrophil chowed down on a piece of bacteria before adding, "Actually, now that I think about it, we all kind of do that in our own way."

"That's...not surprising."

Suddenly, the white blood cell stood up straight; a look of an epiphany lighting up his features in a way that had the erythrocyte pausing. For a moment, she merely took him in before she realized that the look on his face probably spelled out trouble. Before she could further ponder the issue, the neutrophil snapped his finger, shoved the red blood cell back onto her cart, and began hightailing the both of them to parts unknown.

"What the heck are you doing?"

"Getting you an outlet! Hold on!"

"How are you going to get an outlet? And what do you mean?"

"I'LL TEACH YOU THE ART OF IMPROVISATION!"

The meaning of his words barely sunk in before 4201 found herself clutching onto the cart's handles as the neutrophil took off.

* * *

The both of them were standing in abandoned blood vessel that was still undergoing repairs due to unfortunate circumstances only a few days prior. The neutrophil was currently covered head to toe in grease, his hands steadily tinkering with the cart. On the contrary, the red blood cell sat on a crate, cone of glucose in hand as she watched him as she had for the past hour and a half.

Even after the neutrophil had explained his outrageous plan to her (amid a lot of handwaving, strange yells to imitate explosions, and the very idea that she become an "immune cell" for the day), she had not believed him.

Well, until now.

Now, she can completely see that not only had he modified her cart to become some sort of death contraption from bits of scrap metal and—Was that a motor with rockets?—materials generously donated from the platelets. Already, she knows that this was not going to end well.

"Done!" The neutrophil cried out with satisfaction as he leaped into the air. He dashed over to the red blood cell's side and tried dragging her into the seat that he put into the cart. The effort, on his part, was for the lack of a better word, was effortless.

NT-4201 tried her best to struggle, but only ended up strapped in one of the two seats behind…a steering wheel?

"You're not serious." Her dark brown eyes, usually complacent and empty, were filled with dread and apprehension. "You. Are. Defnitely. Not. Serious."

"No, I'm not."

"How reassuring."

"I still want you to do it."

"There is no way I'm going to take my cart that has somehow a motor on it, steer in the direction of the invading bacteria, and use this...rocket launcher to attack them! Do I look like an immune cell to you?"

"You...kinda do. You certainly have that bloodlust in your eyes."

"Uggghhh."

* * *

It went badly.

* * *

There will be stories told for many generations of how an erythrocyte and a neutrophil managed to fend off an entire horde of bacteria. Future cells, Dendritic Cells and lymphocytes alike will regale young progentitors and platelets of the wacky hijinks that came about from some engine propelled carriage straight from the depths of hell. Such an adventure to be had! Such mischief those two endeavored—

NT-4201, in a show of uncharacteristic phsyical prowess, slapped the neutrophil upside the head.

Ignoring his whimpers and cries of forced pain, she scolded him. "Stop it. I know what you're thinking, and I'm telling you now, stop thinking it."

"Whaddaya—"

"This was not fun. This was a complete waste of time!"

"Even the part where we totally blew a few micrometers of endothelial cells to tear apart pathogens?"

"…are we going to have to pay for that?"

"Or the part where we totally saved a couple hundred red blood cells and platelets?"

"…there were a few casualities."

"Or what about the part where we saved the day?"

"That was…"

"Come on. You know you want to say it."

"What do you mean, Mr. White Blood Cell? What do you want me to say? That it was dangerous? That you happened to illegally modify a specialized cart meant for the transport of gases? That there are so many property damages that the platelets have to fix?" With each question, she poked him in the chest. Hard.

Undeterred, the white blood cell looked at her with a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"And?"

"And I'm definitely going to be in so much trouble later on! Not to mention the amount of paperwork I have to fill out because I have to explain everything because I stupidly listened to your advice!"

"And?"

NT-4201 stopped her screeching before pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. An air of smugness practically radiated from the neutrophil's figure as she gathered her courage for one final moment. At the very last second, she mumbled something under her breath.

"Apologies." The self satisfied tone in his voice was so palpable, NT-4201 had to bit her tongue lest she shout at him or do something worse. "Miss Red Blood Cell, but I couldn't hear what you just said."

"It was…" NT-4201 blushed as she hid her face behind her cap. Out of all the things she sought out to do, she didn't think that she was going to end up doing this! Her pride! How was she going to live up to the proper code of a red blood cell if she admitted _to-to-to_ such tomfoolery! "Are you seriously going to make me say it?"

"Humor me."

"Fine." She angrily bit out. "It was…great. Fun."

"But how did it make you feel?"

"I felt...alive. Happy. Satisfied. Me! A red blood cell feeling happy about using violence to solve—"

The white blood cell placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Don't focus on that. Just focus on how you feel and well...do what you guys do best."

"Go with the flow?"

"Yup! I think you finally learned the art of improvisation!"

* * *

NT-4201, for once, sat in relative silence and comfort as she ate a cone of glucose alongside her friend. That one annoying neutrophil. Whereas she daintily licked her own cone of vanilla swirled with chocolate, he hungrily devoured a bowl of steamed bacteria. It was strange. Just yesterday, she had been running all over the body without a thought or a care. All that mattered was the job.

Her duty to the body.

And now…she couldn't say that she would definitely be acting so recklessly like her mentor. Or unabashedly breaking the rules like the neutrophil next to her.

However, if she really wanted to, she could have fun. Go a roundabout way through unknown terrain.

Improvise.

Well, if she was committed to becoming a better erythrocyte, she might as well start doing what she had been learning right now.

"We didn't get along at the start, so…" NT-4201 straightened her back and said with the utmost solemnity that she could muster (which wasn't all too hard), "Hello. My name is NT-4201 and I am a member of the Red Blood Cells."

The white blood cell, a caught off guard since he was caught in the middle of slurping up some delicious entrails choked a bit before coughing, "Yo! Name's U-4989 and I'm the best immune cell ever!"

NT-4201 flicked his nose.

And smiled.

Job well done.


End file.
